Who Tells Your Story
by Phantom Actress
Summary: At the orphanage, Eliza tells the children the story of her life. One shot.


**So this is what happens when you listen to "Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story" over and over again. And cries a lot. A LOT. I also found this really amazing anamatic for the song by Ziksua. It makes me cry even harder. Yay. **

**I don't own Hamilton. **

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Who Tells Your Story

Eliza smiled down at the children's faces. The look in their eyes told her to get started already. It was story time for them. Even now, Eliza could see her husband in the orphans eyes. The orphanage had been open for five years now. Children looked up to her daily. Eliza was the one they turned to when they got hurt or was lonely.

"What do you want to here about today?" Eliza asked them.

"Um, Miss Eliza," said a girl named, Molly, raising her hand.

The older woman smiled at the girl. "Yes, Molly?"

"Can you tell us about you?"

About herself? What would a bunch of five and six year olds want to know about her? She was only Eliza. Simple Eliza who never did anything too stupid in her lifetime. A normal woman. Nothing more.

"Tell us 'bout your husband!" ordered Jonas.

Alexander. The man who she loved. The one who broke her heart. Yet she had forgiven him. Long ago, Eliza had cried herself to sleep every night thinking about his death. Blaming herself for not being there for him. To save him.

"Well, his name was Alexander," Eliza started. She cleared her throat, to start another, more appropriate story for children, _"Once there was a princess. Princess Eliza." The children leaned in closer to her. "And she fell in love with a solder named, Alexander Hamilton. After a few weeks of courting, Alexander asked the king if he could marry Princess Eliza. The king said 'Yes, but always be true'. Princess Eliza was so happy when she married Alexander. But he had to go to war." _

"No! Alex can't leave Princess Eliza! He loves her!" Molly exclaimed.

Eliza gave her a sad smile and scooped Molly into her lap. "Yes. _During that time, Eliza found out that she was going to have a baby! Princess Eliza wanted to tell her husband. After Alexander got sent home for doing something naughty, Eliza told him that they were going to have a son."_

"A boy! But I think they should have a little princess!" complained Molly, looking up at Eliza.

"Maybe they will soon enough," Eliza answered, "_Everyday Princess Eliza waited for her Alexander." _

A boy by the name, Andrew cried out in disgust. "Is this gonna be a kissing book?" Some of the boys around him started nodding. "That's gross!"

"It's your choice if you want a bedtime story or not," Eliza reminded them. "Anyways, _when Alexander finally came home, he was sick. So Eliza made sure that he was okay. When he got better, their son was born. His name was Philip. Alexander worked for George Washington himself." _

Jonas stood up. He waved his arms around. "Wait, _the _President George Washington? Did that happen in real life?"

"Yeah it did!" exclaimed Rebecca, who was older than the group, "Remember, because I know everything!"

The younger kids groaned. Rebecca had been a know-it-all from the moment she arrived at the orphanage. Even Eliza could lose her patience with her. Angelica claimed Rebecca was the reason her hair was turning gray.

"_One summer, Princess Eliza wanted to go on a trip with her father and sister, Princess Angelica. But Alexander had to work. While he was working, he fell in love with another girl." _Even after all those years, it was hard for Eliza to talk about the affair. How Alexander had broken her heart.

"NO!" all the children yelled.

They ran into hysterics. Eliza heard Andrew starting to curse. After giving him a talking-to, Eliza called the rest of the children down. When Molly was back on her lap, joined with her friend, Lydia, Eliza started again. She couldn't imagine what she would do if she accidently told them Alexander had an affair.

"_When Princess Eliza found out, she was so sad. A few months later, Philip died." _

"WHY!"

Again, Eliza had to calm down the group. Perhaps this had been a bad idea. A very bad idea. But her life had been filled with this. Sorrow. Tragedy. Disaster.

"_But Princess Eliza forgave Alexander during this time. It was very sad, but still it gave Alexander a chance to say sorry. The next part of this story is very sad." _Eliza let in a shaky breath. _"Alexander died a few years after." _

Big mistake. Molly started crying. Eliza rocked her back and forth, rubbing her back, trying to calm her down. When Molly shed her last tear, Eliza continued.

"_Princess Eliza mourned her husband. But she was able to stop grieving for Alexander. One day, she opened up an orphanage. It was in honor of her husband." _

"Was Alexander an orphan, too?" Jonas asked.

Eliza nodded. "_Princess Eliza wore a necklace with a sonnet inside it to honor her husband. _It's right here." She pointed to the chain around her neck.

"So you are Princess Eliza!" Molly touched her cheek. "But what's a sonnet?"

"Yes, I am and a sonnet is a poem, which is a type of writing."

The children leaned in closer to Eliza. They reached out to touch the precious piece of jewelry.

"Read it to us please!" Andrew begged.

"Alright." Eliza unfasted the necklace. "But it's very romantic."

Andrew shrugged. "It's okay."

_Before no mortal ever knew_  
_A love like mine so tender—true—_  
_Completely wretched—you away—_  
_And but half blessed e'en while you stay._

_If present love [illegible] face_  
_Deny you to my fond embrace_  
_No joy unmixed my bosom warms_  
_But when my angel's in my arms._

When Eliza finished, her eyes were watery. Molly immediately tried to comfort her, just as she had done with herself. The other children followed suit. The gesture made the older woman start to sob harder.

It felt as if Alexander was there.

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**I couldn't find the sonnet that Eliza wore in the locket, but I did find that one, which is a real poem that Alexander wrote to Eliza. I hope you liked this little one shot. **

**Thanks for reading! Please review! I love seeing reviews!**


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